


Just a Rental

by selecasharp



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Car Sex, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Semi-Public Sex, Sex in a Car, Sexual Humor, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 05:30:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4734368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selecasharp/pseuds/selecasharp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turns out that Dean likes car sex no matter what car they're in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Rental

Dean’s always liked car sex, Sam knew that. But he’d kind of thought that all of those times had been more about the Impala, about Dean combining three of the things he loves best in the world — Sam, his baby, and sex — than about anything else.

He revises that opinion when Dean suddenly pulls their shitty rental car over to the side of the road and gives him the _look_.

“Really? Here?” Sam pretends to protest. But his cock’s already hard, just from the way Dean’s licking his lips at him. There’s no way he’s going to be able to resist whatever Dean has in mind, no matter that he usually balks at anything quite this public. Besides, truth be told, he kind of likes car sex too. Not that he’s going to admit that or anything, but still.

Dean throws the door open and gets out, and Sam follows without question. The road’s on his side, so he circles around to Dean’s, where there’s nothing but overgrown fields as far as the eye can see. He hasn’t even seen another car in at least half an hour, he realizes. No wonder Dean stopped here.

“C’mere,” Dean growls, grabbing him by the shirt and hauling him in. They kiss there, Sam pressing Dean back against the warm metal of the rental car while Dean strips them both out of their flannels and then tugs insistently at Sam’s t-shirt. 

“We’re outside,” Sam breathes against his lips. “And it’s day—”

“So?” Dean shoots back. “Not our car, not our problem. Plus you really think anyone’s gonna drive down this road anyway?”

He has a point. Sam lets Dean yank his shirt off, then grapples for Dean’s, pulling it over his head and mussing his hair. The sunshine lights it up, burnishing it almost golden, and Sam leans back in and licks Dean’s lower lip as he goes for Dean’s jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping until he can get his hand inside his brother’s boxers. Dean’s cock is hard and hot on his palm, and Sam strokes him a couple times, making him gasp and swear unintelligibly.

“Weren’t you just bitching about it being daylight?” Dean teases, tackling Sam’s belt with glee. 

“Shut up.” Sam kisses him again, shoving Dean's jeans down around his thighs and then running his hands down his flanks before sliding them around to grip his exposed ass. His knuckles bump up against the car door as he feels Dean’s hands open his jeans and then shove them and his boxers down until Sam can kick them away. 

Dean seizes him around the hips and drags him closer, until they’re pressed up tight together, Dean’s cock a hard line of heat against Sam’s, Sam’s thighs bracketing Dean’s. Sam digs his fingers into Dean’s ass, cupping his palms around the curve of it, and bruises his mouth against Dean’s, tangling their tongues together as the sun beats down on their bare skin.

“Like this? Out here?” Sam breathes into Dean’s mouth. He rocks his hips forward, sliding his cock against Dean’s. Dean’s head falls back against the roof as he bucks his hips in response, grinding into Sam. “Or do you want—”

Before he can finish asking, though, Dean breaks the kiss to put both hands on Sam’s chest and push him. Sam stumbles back a couple steps, panting, watching as Dean turns and wrestles the car door open. The front, he notices, eyes roving over Dean’s naked body and zeroing in on his thick full cock as he turns to face Sam again. As he watches, Dean grabs the tangle of his jeans and boxers and steps out of them, then tosses them over the open door. “Seriously?” Sam asks, mouth dry. “The driver’s seat? I thought you hated—”

“You,” Dean growls, threading his fingers into Sam’s hair and pulling him in by it, “need to stop talking.”

It’s not fair, how fucking hot Dean is. Sam moves to kiss him, but Dean turns around and bends over before he can, resting his elbows on the front seat near the gear shift and spreading his legs wide. His ass presses up against Sam’s thighs, the expanse of his back on display in front of him. Sam follows the slope of his spine with both his eyes and his hands, tracing the sway and dip of it before spreading his hands over the swell of Dean’s ass. He shifts his own hips, until his cock is nestled in the cleft. “So like this then?” he croaks. 

“Come on, Sam,” Dean grunts, pushing back against him. 

Sam digs his fingers in tight as pleasure spikes through him. Dean feels so damn good like this, shoved up tight against him, skin smooth and warm from the sun. He cants his hips forward, rubbing his cock between Dean’s cheeks. “You sure about this?” he pants. “You usually throw down a towel if—”

“Not our car,” Dean says again. He shifts, making Sam gasp, and flips open the glove compartment. There’s a gun, a couple of fake IDs, and a bottle of lube in there. Figures Dean was planning this, Sam thinks, but he’s too turned on to care right now. He just grabs for the bottle and pops it open. “No fingers,” Dean rasps. “Takes too fuckin’ long. Just me and your cock, Sammy.”

Sam would argue, but Dean arches his back then, his fingers scrabbling on the faux leather passenger seat. Sam hastily slicks himself up and then Dean, because fine, he won’t put fingers in as requested, but like hell he’s not putting lube on him at all. Dean hisses, squirming, and Sam pulls his fingers away. He grabs Dean’s hip with one hand and uses his other to grasp his own cock, guiding it forward as he slowly pushes inside. 

“Jesus,” Dean moans, wiggling a little as Sam slides in. His brother’s tight around him, hot and fucking amazing, but Sam makes himself take his time, letting Dean get used to it. Or that’s the plan, anyway, but then Dean snarls something and shoves back into him, until Sam’s thighs are pressed up against Dean’s ass, his cock fully buried inside. 

“Oh god,” Sam gasps, grabbing onto Dean’s hips to keep from falling.

Dean cranes his head over his shoulder to leer at him. “You were taking too long,” he smirks.

Sam pulls out a little and then thrusts back in hard. “You asked for it,” he growls, grabbing onto Dean’s hips and pounding into him. Dean groans and lifts his hips, meeting him on every thrust, and soon Sam is lost in the rhythm of it, in the sight of Dean’s back bowing before him, in the sound of Dean gasping out his name interspersed with swears, in the rough heat rising around them. He can feel a breeze tickling at his bare back, can feel stalks of grass brushing his ankles, and it’s freaking ridiculous, that they’re doing this in broad daylight, in a rental car they probably won’t even bother to clean properly before hightailing it out of town. But damn if it’s not completely fucking hot too.

“Sammy,” Dean’s chanting now, his voice wrecked, the way it gets when he’s close. Sam grips him tighter and picks up the pace, slamming into him now, his toes curling in his boots with every thrust. God, Dean feels perfect like this, tight and hot and open all at once. Dean must think so too; he lets out a stream of swears and claws at the passenger seat, his nails leaving furrows in the fake leather. Not our car, Sam thinks, and nearly laughs. Dean never claws the Impala up like this. But Sam doesn’t blame him, especially not when Dean cries out, “Oh _fuck_ ,” and throws his head back, his whole body going rigid.

“Dean,” Sam rasps back, his rhythm breaking as Dean clenches down on him, sending shocks spiraling through him. He renews his grip on Dean’s hips and pushes back in deep, watching Dean as he comes. He can’t see it, but he can picture the mess Dean’s making of the driver’s seat, can picture the flushed head of his cock spilling out streams over the cheap leather, and it’s enough to tip him over the edge after him. Sam cries out as he comes, his cock pumping inside of Dean, his fingers scrabbling for purchase over Dean’s skin. 

He nearly falls over when it finally ends. His whole body feels weak, limp and satisfied, and he eases back out, shaking slightly. “Hey,” he says, and Dean lets out a lazy chuckle and slides back along the seat until he’s kneeling on the grass.

“Hey,” Dean says back, twisting his head up until Sam sees his face, his eyes a brilliant green in the sunshine, his cheeks flushed, his lips red and swollen. God, he loves him, Sam thinks, sinking down until he’s on his knees next to him and then touching Dean’s cheek. Dean’s lips curve in a smug smile. “Still worried about the daylight?” he grins.

“Shut up,” Sam says, and pulls him in close.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [you know they are brothers](http://youknowtheyarebrothers.tumblr.com/) tumblr, with [merakieros](http://merakieros.tumblr.com) making the gif. See [here](http://youknowtheyarebrothers.tumblr.com/post/127522956165/deans-always-liked-car-sex-sam-knew-that-but) for the inspiration. :D NSFW!
> 
> Crossposted to [LJ](http://teashopmuses.livejournal.com/93995.html).


End file.
